Kryptonite
by Antigone.Rose
Summary: In which Agent Lincoln Lee meets the version of himself from the Other Side. It's not easy seeing the Superman to his Clark Kent.


_A/N: A bit of a character study on my new favorite Fringe agent and his double. Takes place somewhere before _Subject Nine_. Enjoy. _

_Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. _

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><p><em>Kryptonite<em>

When Lincoln Lee first met the version of himself from the Other Side, he let out a yelp like he'd touched a hot stove and recoiled to hide behind his Olivia. The Other just stared at him, bewilderment and amusement mixing on his glasses-free face. Lincoln readjusted his, suddenly self-conscious. He wondered briefly if the Other had contacts or if hadn't had bad vision in the first place.

"Agent Dunham." The other Lincoln Lee nodded at Olivia, still looking at Lincoln with curiosity. "I've got the case files that you asked for." He waved the thick stack of folders with the familiar unfamiliar Fringe Division seal stamped across them.

"Thanks, Agent Lee." She was formal, but not cold like she was around the Other Olivia. She gestured back at him, still cowering behind her. "This is our Lincoln Lee. He's joined the Fringe Division."

The other Lincoln let out a laugh. "You don't say?" He stared intently at his double. "Well, I guess we belong here, don't we?"

Olivia gave him one of her almost-smiles and glanced back at Lincoln. He was paper white. "How long…" Lincoln managed to ask the Other. "have you worked for Fringe?"

"Eh." Lincoln Lee of the Other Side shrugged, easy and cocksure. "Couple of years now. You?"

"A few weeks." Lincoln admitted.

"Why?" The Other grinned at him, catlike. "Did they run out of comfy desk jobs on your side?"

"My…partner." Lincoln said, his eyes suddenly dark. "He was killed by these…things…I joined the investigation to catch the people that killed him."

"I'm sorry." The Other looked truly sincere. He turned to Olivia. "Was it those shape shifters that you told Liv about?"

Olivia nodded. "Have you heard anything else about that?"

"Nah." The Other scratched the back of his neck and looked Olivia up and down. "Nobody knows where they came from. And believe me…I'd tell you if I knew anything."

Olivia nodded. "I'm sure you would." She glanced back at her version of Lincoln Lee. "We should go…Broyles doesn't like us out on the bridge too long."

"Ours either." He admitted. "Though he does seem to like you…" He looked her up and down again. "God knows why." He winked at her and sauntered off, leaving Lincoln feel both creepy and creeped out. Other him had the hots for Olivia Dunham! Not that he could be blamed, of course, but…it felt distinctly creepy.

"So," He looked over at her as they left the bridge room. "That's other me."

"Like I said before," She reached over to press down on the hand scanner. He followed suit. "They may look like us, but that doesn't mean that we have anything in common."

"He doesn't even look like me!" Lincoln insisted. "I mean…that _hair_."

Olivia laughed at that one. "I'll give you that." She admitted. "You do seem to have a fondness for hair gel Over There."

"And those _clothes_…" The image of himself dressed in baggy cargo pants was oddly disturbing. "What was I thinking?"

"They have uniforms Over There." Olivia responded seemingly without thinking. "Their Fringe division is much more…regimented than ours."

Lincoln let out a thoughtful "hmmm" sound, following her back into their universe. He often forgot that she had spent time Over There. She must have known Other Lincoln before she knew him. It was a weird thought. He glanced over at her unreadable face. Did she ever compare him to…_him_?

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><p>That night, Lincoln lay in bed and was unable to sleep. The version of another himself was creeping around the edges of his mind, making him feel jumpy and panicked. He sat up and reached for his glasses sitting on the nightstand. He pushed them on his nose and stared at the clock. 3:08 AM. He'd be getting up in three hours. Not bothering to take of his glasses, he collapsed back into his pillows.<p>

He'd been wearing glasses since he was about nine. They'd always been the same sort; thick-framed, clunky and too big for his face. Some people grew into their noses or ears. Lincoln had grown into his glasses.

They used to bother him immensely, but he rarely thought about them anymore now. Right now, though, he hated them. He felt like Clark Kent, some mild-mannered desk jockey who didn't belong anywhere in a world of crimes and impossible things.

The Other Lincoln probably had 20/20 eyesight and heat vision to match. He was probably Over There killing shape shifters and other evildoers by the dozen. Over Here, Lincoln was curled up alone in bed, unable to sleep. Over There, Lincoln was probably with a woman and charming her with easy smiles and winks by the dozen. Over Here, Lincoln got nervous when he and his new partner were alone in a room together.

He closed his eyes and tired to stop thinking. He couldn't stop thinking. He and his counterpart were nothing the same, Olivia had assured him of that. But, if he admitted it to himself, he knew that wasn't true. Lincoln Lee from Over There was everything that this Lincoln might have been.

He was charming, he was confident, he was sure of his every move. Somewhere inside, deep inside, Lincoln knew that he had that in him. But it was buried deep, under childhood traumas and deeply ingrained insecurities. It was hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

He was Superman with his glasses stuck on, some unstoppable force preventing him from even trying to take them off. His doppelgänger got to be unhindered, never mild-mannered, always the ass-kicking hero. They were two sides of the same coin, made of the same stuff, but not the same.

Lincoln Lee took off his glasses and set them on his nightstand, sinking deeper into his pillows. The room was still and dark around him. He may not be the Superman in this scenario, but he was the one with the Fortress of Solitude. He hadn't had a serious girlfriend since college. And now that Robert was dead…his friends were few and not very close. He was even estranged from his family.

The Other Lincoln probably had a still-alive partner, a social life, maybe even a girlfriend. He wondered for a moment if that girlfriend could be the redheaded Olivia Dunham. Despite all the things that weren't the same on the Other Side, he knew that his feelings for Olivia Dunham, any Olivia Dunham, would stay the same.

She was their Louis Lane, even though she was the one to save his ass most of the time. He wondered if to was like that on the Other Side and decided that it probably was. Wherever there was an Olivia and a Lincoln, Lincoln was probably screwing things up and Olivia was probably saving him. Regardless, she was their femme fatale. She was the damsel that he wished he could have from her distress, despite the fact that it was emotional rather than a giant monster.

The Other him…he probably had her. They were probably together like Lincoln wanted him and his Olivia to be. But, he was scared and mild-mannered and altogether not ready. So they lived every day in the awkward place that was somewhere between friends and partners.

Working in a job like this, one where Lincoln could be killed any minute, the trust between partners was everything. Without it, he could pretty much count himself as dead. That sort of all-consuming trust had allowed their partner/friendship to grow at an alarming rate. Other than her sister, Walter and Astrid, Olivia didn't have any close relationships. Lincoln, having just moved and not having had many close relationships to begin with, could sympathize.

He didn't know anyone outside of the Fringe team in this city. He'd transferred here without a second thought, but now that decision was all he thought about. Was he really ready for this sort of responsibility? Was he even _right_ for it all?

It had been a good opportunity, better pay, higher security clearance and a clean slate after losing Robert in Hartford.

But, now, as he lay alone in his new and fairly empty apartment, unable to sleep, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made the wrong choice. He was Clark Kent. He had always been Clark Kent, the mild-mannered, paperwork-filing average citizen. Now, he was being thrust into a world where Clark Kent just wasn't enough anymore.

He had to embrace his other half, the half that the Lincoln Lee from the Other Side had, if he wanted to survive this. He could be Superman with the glasses on, fighting the impossible with a gun and a badge and a kick-ass partner. He had to be.

It was the job offer that he'd accepted. Olivia trusted him to have her back. The world expected him to protect them from the horrors of see-through shape-shifters and talking fungus and horrible, wonderful, impossible things.

He would take up that mantle, be the Man of Steel, and protect the ordinary people of his world. For Robert, he would do it. For Olivia, he would do it. For his doppelgänger, he would do it. But mostly, he would do it for himself. He closed his eyes against the darkness of his empty room and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Tomorrow was another day, most likely filled with pain and trials and things that most sane people wouldn't believe.

Lincoln Lee knew in that instant that he would be ready, glasses and all.

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><p><em>Yup. Review and all that good stuff. <em>


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